Valkyrie
by theBalance
Summary: Carry on from Stephen King's "Insomnia" Ending came to me and now am making it up as I go along. Nona's brother just died. Clotho and Lachesis need her help while Atropos is determined to claim her for his own means. What's so special about her?
1. Prologue: Winding the Deathwatch

**Nona**_  
An Insomnia Fan fiction by TheBalance_

_AN: I'm writing this purely for people like me who want to hear more about the Little Bald Doctors from 'Insomnia'. They're my personal favourite Stephen King creatures – if not my favourites overall.__Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos, etc. are all from the mind of Stephen King blah-de blah-de blah…So far, Nona and Olaf are the only characters that come from me. I'm pretty sure you all know what a disclaimer sounds like by now.__Oh yeah, in case you haven't guessed, the term "Winding the Deathwatch" comes directly from the book.__This is my first crack at SK and I'll do my best to lay it out like him.  
__A Brief Recap of Greek Mythology: Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos are the three fates who deal out Life, Destiny and Death, respectively. Nona is the Roman counter-part of Clotho.  
Feel free to R&R. If you like it, I'll keep writing._

**Prologue – Winding the Deathwatch**  
"_We've been waiting for you."  
~Lachesis, _Insomnia,_ page 438_

**1**

If she had the strength to look up, she would've recognized the two little men standing at the foot of her brother's hospital bed. Nona Pedersen would also know why they were here. Though she had only ever seen them from afar, she knew what they were: omens. Or perhaps even death itself. Olaf had taken ill all his life and six long months ago had been transferred to Derry Home Hospital. It was around then that she had begun to loose sleep.  
Nona raised her head slightly and peered at his gaunt face. Had it not been so, it would look exactly like hers: Perfect Aryan features now a distant homage to their long-forgotten birthplace. She looked into the mirror on the far side of the stale room and noticed that the dried tears had left painfully pink tracks from the inner corners of her eyes.

Still the men did not approach, as though waiting for her to notice them. She did not.

Instead, she buried her face in the crook of her twin's elbow and tried to cry once more. _Why can't you die already? Can you not feel my pain?_

One of the men attempted to step forward, the other passively raised the scissors in his right hand at his companion's chest. The first meekly obeyed the other's silent command.

Her dry sobs lasted twenty minutes though Olaf continued to breathe, his heart to beat.

**2**

_[Nona!]_ The first could no longer watch idly as the young woman prematurely mourned her other half._  
[No! Not yet! She's not-]_

But it was too late. Nona jerked her head up as though wakened from a deep sleep, dark-blond hair falling about her face in curtains. Instantly, her eyes found the body that belonged to the voice. She looked into his eyes, momentarily mesmerized by the golden flickers that danced like fireflies in his black eyes. Sucking back a gasp, she looked to his companion and the long steel shears he held. Slowly, her head turned back to her brother's face, and then rose slightly as she looked at his sickly gray balloon-string. She turned back to the fellow with the vicious-looking scissors and smiled grimly._  
_

_[No, your friend is right: I've been ready for far too long.]_  
The little man nodded and smiled nervously. _[Apologies, Miss. But usually when we go about our, erm, _business_, humans do not see us.]__  
[You _do_ know what we do, do you not?]_ the first interjected hurriedly.  
Nona nodded, _[I have a vague idea.]_ She sent the visitors an image: an ancient vase with three women painted upon it. The first wove a thread, the second held a measuring rod against it, the third held it between a pair of shears.  
Their thin smiles widened _[Names we are familiar with,]_ he with the shears gestured lightly to himself: _[Clotho,]_ to his colleague: _[Lachesis,]_ he weakly pointed out the window: _[Atropos.]_

Nona followed Clotho's finger and saw an ambulance pull up into the emergency bay. The back doors flew open and the medics stepped out pulling a gurney covered with a vaguely human shaped blanket. As they turned into the entrance of the hospital, she observed a third little bald man. He caught her eye and raised an ancient, rusted scalpel in an obscene toast: _[May we two meet soon.]_ With a shudder, Nona returned her attention to Clotho and Lachesis.

_[Not a pleasant one, we know,]_ the latter stated bleakly. _[Now,]_ with a sigh he weaved his fingers together apprehensively. _[To the business at hand…]_ He gestured to Olaf and walked around to the opposite side of the bed from Nona.  
Clotho mirrored him and placed his free hand over Nona's. When she looked up into his eyes he spoke softly. _[You know we do what we must.]__  
[Take him, please,]_ she pleaded. _[We've both suffered too long.]_  
In reply he nodded to Lachesis, who in turn placed a gentle hand on Olaf's forehead and kissed it lightly. _[Go in peace.]_  
Taking his cue, Clotho raised his scissors in his right hand and held the dark gray lifeline of Nona's only known relative gently between the blades. For a moment, he hesitated and cast a glance at Nona. She stepped forward and placed her right hand over Clotho's, as a mother would to guide a child through a difficult cut. Together, they squeezed the handles of the scissors, severing the life-line.

_[You shouldn't've done that,]_ Lachesis uttered._  
[It felt right,]_ Nona replied. _[It was,]_ Clotho confirmed.

"No-o-na-ah. Yo-ou s-st-ayed." Nona quickly diverted her attention and saw Olaf smiling at her. Clotho and Lachesis stepped back as she lunged forward, placed a hand on her brother's shoulder and weaved the fingers of the other through his short hair. In their twenty-six years - ten of which were being dragged through foster homes of varying nastiness – they had been each other's rock. Now, it was time for one to fall.

Fighting back tears she smiled and kissed the corner of his eye. At once, his body relaxed, the monitoring equipment went haywire and doctors and nurses flooded into the room. Nona searched frantically but of the Little Bald Doctors there was no sign


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**  
"_The doctor told me. The little bald doctor. I think it's him you'll have to answer to if you try to mind my business again. And then God help you."__  
~Ed Deepneau, _Insomnia, _page 164_

**1**

Odda looks over the Hardangerfjord at the southern end or Norway like a sleeping sentry. Neither Nona nor Olaf remembers much of its beauty, being only five when their parents moved them to Maine, USA.

One day, while Nona was attending school Olaf suffered a seizure and was taken to Derry Home via an ambulance. Their parents followed and were struck side-on when they frantically tried to follow through a red light. Her father died upon impact, impaled on a hoe that he had left in the back seat. Her mother was propelled through the windscreen and crumpled on the bonnet of a startled car. She had bled out before the ambulance with Olaf as a passenger realized something was amiss.  
The Pedersen children spent the remainder of their childhood as Burdens of the State of Maine.

When Olaf was admitted permanently to Derry Home, Nona rented a simple house from an old widow on Harris Avenue. Lois Roberts was a tough old bird but ever kind to Nona and Olaf. She always seemed to know whenever Nona needed comforting and would bring over some fresh biscuits for tea and a chat. Nona always thought she had the air of one who knew more than she let on. Mrs. Roberts sympathized with Nona's insomnia though she never let on as to why. Once or twice, to test her impending insanity, Nona mentioned the auras. "Bright gray," she told the wizened old woman conspiratorially. "Yours is bright gray." But the widow merely nodded slowly and smiled as if humoring a hyperactive grandchild. There was always something in that smile. Not in the way the lips grew taut, nor how the cheeks dimpled audaciously. It was all in the eyes, those knowing eyes.

**2**

The days leading to Olaf's funeral were fuzzy at best for Nona. Lois spent a lot of time with her, fixing tea and generally providing emotional support. Neither mentioned the little doctors. Until the night before the service.  
Lois had come round baring a casserole dish of her famed macaroni cheese. The women ate in silence and Nona must've dozed in front of the television.

"Nona. Nona!" Lois shook her awake.  
"Mm?" the younger replied groggily.  
"Nona, look at me," the elder placed a gentle hand on the other's cheek and forced their eyes to meet. "Where did you hear that name?"  
"Name?" sleep still clouded her mind. "What name?"  
"You were muttering in your sleep, I tried to tell myself you were saying something else, but when you spoke it again… ugh," Lois shook her head in resignation. "You called out for Clotho," she let out another sigh. "You asked him to be quick."  
" 'Clotho'?" Nona looked away in confusion. "Who the hell is…" her head jerked up suddenly. "Clotho," she whispered. "Lachesis. Atropos… you _know_ them!"  
"I never said that," Lois pulled back defensively.  
"No, but you implied it. You. Know. Them," she repeated. "I'm not nuts. You've seen them. The little bald men… they look like the Stors from those Shannara books… with the… the scissors and the scalpel and…"  
"Nona!" Lois slapped her sharply across her left cheek. "Calm down. Yes, I know them. I know what they do."

**3**

"About six years ago they came to us," the widow began when she had a cup of tea to cradle.  
"Us?"  
"Ralph and me. And I haven't seen them since, nor can I remember much. But what I _do_ remember, I don't want to. Clotho and Lachesis, those two work for the Purpose, they deal your death when your time comes. They made me think of children: incredibly naïve at times, incredibly wise at others."  
Nona nodded understandingly. _But Olaf died six months ago, why didn't they come then?_ She remained silent.  
"The other – Atropos – he is the Random element: when someone dies for no apparent Purpose, you can bet all the tea in China it was him. He's a nasty little bugger, that one." Lois drained the last of her tea before changing the subject, "Do you have all your gears laid out for tomorrow?"  
"What? That's it? A few sentences? That's all you can say on the matter?"  
" 'Fraid so, dearey. This old mind can't hold much any more. You want me to stay? Or will you be alright on your own tonight?"  
"I'll be fine, thanks Mrs. R. I need to… think," Nona smiled weakly as Lois picked up her purse and headed for the door. Her smile disappeared quickly as she noticed her friend's aura darken slightly as she stepped into the night.

**4**

Nona lay awake for some time, as insomniacs are prone to do, with her fingers laced behind her head, staring at the monotone ceiling. The horrid orange glow from the streetlights cast an ominous radiance over the brick-patterned ceiling tiles. The first visions that played over her eyelids wouldn't surprise you or me: the scissors_  
(Clotho)_  
so like those from her grandmother's sewing kit. The eyes_  
(Lachesis)_  
so dark, bright and haunted. And the scalpel_  
(Atropos)_  
so rusted and sick.

_Clotho… Lachesis… Atropos… What do you want from me? Lois said "they came to us." For what?  
For aid,_ a distant voice (Lachesis?) answered.  
Nona sat up, startled, looking from side-to-side like a meerkat on acid, expecting to see the little bald_  
(doctor)_  
man step out of the shadows. When she saw nothing she examined her hand: no electric violet flickering off her fingertips – she wasn't in 'the zone'. "Lachesis?" she called into the silence. "Clotho? …Atropos?" she added sheepishly.

Nothing.  
With a sigh, Nona Pedersen pulled the duvet over her head and eventually fell asleep.

**5**

_[No!] _Clotho held up his scissors in warning. _[She is for the Purpose! You cannot have her.]_  
Atropos hissed in defiance, his scarred face distorting hideously, pointed teeth baring in a repulsive grin. _[She's a blank you fucking moron! The bitch is mine]__  
[Not if I can help it. She will never belong to you; she will never belong to the Random.]_ Clotho lowered the scissors, directing the points at Atropos' chest. _[Now get the fuck out of my sight. You do not want me to catch you near this place while she resides here.]_  
The grin turned into a grimace as Atropos drew his scalpel in an instant and held the blade against Clotho's right temple. _[You will risk your life for a Short-Time?]_  
Clotho could feel the blood trickle down his cheek as he hissed his reply: _[If I must.]  
[Good,] _Atropos whispered menacingly. _[At least that's clear.]_

Clotho barely flinched as Atropos flicked his wrist, leaving a slash from the temple to the jawbone. With a quick glance at the shape huddled on the bed, Atropos turned on his heel and exited triumphantly. Clotho raised his hand to his cheek and examined the blood in the dim glow. A few steps brought him to the bedside where he pulled down the duvet revealing Nona's serene face. He lightly placed the blooded palm on the left side of her forehead and kissed the bridge of her nose. _[If I must…]_


	3. Chapter Two

_AN: I don't know jack-shit about Maine weather patterns so I just went by the NZ autumn day that's slugging past my window._

**Chapter Two**

"_My colleague and I do what we were made to do; Atropos does what _he_ was made to do; and you, my Short-Time friends will do what you were made to do"_

_~Clotho_, Insomnia_, page 449._

**1**

The day was typical autumn: Bright yet cold, not a cloud in sight with a breeze that sent a spider up your spine every now-and-then. Nona looked around in as if in a utopian afterlife. The agony was finally over: no more undying questions from neurologists, oncologists or any-other-ologists. The sun-browned grass of the graveyard was finally beginning to recover from another summer beating. Only the top-most leaves were starting to turn in preparation for their final journey to the ground.

The Pedersen's had kept mostly to themselves, and so the majority of the few guests were doctors from Derry Home, as well as a couple who had travelled from Lewiston's Kingdom Hospital where Olaf was also treated. The auras had returned for Nona and she looked at each with piercing concentration.

"Aunty Nona!" the voice of a little girl hailed her.

She turned, trying to hide how startled she was, and knelt to welcome the child's embrace. "Natalie!" she crooned, releasing the girl and smiling up at the proud mother. "I'm so glad you two could make it, Helen," Nona said as she rose for another embrace.

"Me too, Nona, me too."

Helen and Natalie Deepneau's aura's were an almost identical shimmer of mother-of-pearl and were streaked with silver sorrow. However, concern streaked across her face as she noticed Lois coming up behind them: the grandmother-to-all's aura had darkened considerably, though Lois herself appeared healthy. At this rate, it would be as bad as Olaf's was three days ago by tomorrow night.

"Come," the widow beckoned. "Before the service starts. I want to show you something." She hastily took Nona by the arm and led her through the rows of headstones, until she reached a simple monument made of polished granite. Sitting casually in the canter of the stone was none other than Lachesis, swaying his left foot like an impatient child. Neither Clotho nor Atropos was anywhere in sight. "Meet my husband."

"… What?" at first Nona thought she had gestured towards the little doctor, then quickly remembered that Lois no longer saw them.

Lachesis' face brightened, _[sorry, couldn't resist]_ and he hopped off the tombstone, revealing the gold-leaf inscription:

_Ralph Roberts_

_1923-1998_

_It's a long road back to Eden__, so don't sweat the small stuff_

"It's been two years," Lois mused. "He made a deal with _them_: his life for the girl's," she nodded her head towards the Deepneaus.

"By 'them' you mean…" Nona cast a side glance at Lachesis who nodded.

_[He was a very brave man.]_

"Clotho and Lachesis," the widow confirmed. "Are they here?"

_[No,]_ Lachesis insisted."No," Nona repeated. "I haven't seen them since…"

"It's okay, dear. I've just been wondering why they would show themselves. Back in '93, existence itself rested in the balance that Ralph and I had to maintain. What else could possibly happen in this little town that they feel they have to intervene once more?"

_[You.]_

_[Me?]_

_[Keep listening.]_

Nona shrugged, "existence?" _[What's so special about me?]_

"Mm," Lois nodded. "They told us that reality is like a building, a

_[A tower.]_

skyscraper, with many levels like… perception. We're on the first two – or something like that. The little doctors

_[Heh. She still calls us 'doctors'…]_

are on the next few up," she stacked her hands three times for emphasis. "When they came to us, it was like the building was leaning, like the one in Piza, about to fall. Those two revealing themselves to you could only mean that something is wrong." She glanced over Nona's shoulder, "looks like the show is about to start, come on, dear."

_[Nona, wait, we need to palaver,]_ Lachesis said as Lois began to walk away.

_[I can't miss my brother's funeral]_

_[You said your good-bye in the most intimate way possible – _im_possible, considering you're a Short-Timer.]_

_[I cut his cord]_

_[Indeed.]_

"Start without me, Lois. I've said my farewell," she called.

Lois nodded in reply and continued to walk away.

_[She's right, isn't she? Something's wrong and you need me to put it right.]_

_[That's not _exactly_ untrue: something's _right_ and we need _you_ to keep it that way.]_

Nona looked at the little man, perplexed, _[I don't understand.]_

_[That's okay; it's not possible to understand all tasks that are set for us. Do you know what I do?]_

_[You're death aren't you?]_

Lachesis shook his head, _[Clotho is Death and you think me his Nurse. No, I am Destiny. I have what you would call visions, though that is not really what they are. I _know_ when, where, why, how and by whom, a certain event shall happen. I am the youngest of the three of us.]_

_[You have lifespans? But… you seem so… ageless.]_

Lachesis nodded, _[Nothing is ageless. They may seem so to Short-Timers like yourself. Clotho, Atropos and I are Long-Timers: a decade to you is but a year to us. A century: a decade. There is no such thing as immortal: those that we call All-Timers pass as such for they live so long that time is almost _irrelevant_ to them.]_ He turned his hand into a pair of shears and made snipping motions over his own head in imitation of Clotho. _[The other two are my concern: Clotho and Atropos. They are both old, even by our standards. For one of them, his time is almost up. And _you,_ my short-time friend, must take his place on the wheel of ka.]_

**2**

Nona was stunned for a moment and Lachesis gave her a chance to let his words sink in, breaking eye contact. After a full two minutes of silence, he gestured to her to kneel to his level, she silently complied. The fate raised his right hand and brushed the Short-Time's forehead. _[You've been marked,]_ he stated as he held his hand in front of her face for her to examine. What seemed like a small pool of light had settled on his fingertips, similar in colour to his own. Where Lachesis' aura glowed like solar flares, this little piece looked more like a threatening rain cloud had settled over it. _[This is Clotho's blood. You see he is ill?]_

Nona sat on the grass to make herself a little more comfortable. _[But, after all this, why me? What makes me so different from everyone else?]_

In reply, Lachesis made a circle with his hands, between the curves of his fingers rose a brief scene: two cars colliding to form a demented 'T'. _[Death is something you are familiar with, no? On this _fateful_ day twenty years ago, _you_ were meant to be in one of those cars. We couldn't save your parents, but _I_ was the one who had to make sure that your brother's seizure happened during school hours.]_

_[That still doesn't answer my question – why me? There must be millions of people around the world in similar – if not worse – situations. What makes me so special?]_

_[Only this,]_ Lachesis touched his lips to her ear and whispered: _[I have seen your potential, Nona Freja Pedersen. You could be a powerful Clotho or a terrible Atropos.]_ The little man placed a hand on her shoulder and moved his face so close their noses were almost touching. _[He _will_ try to subvert you, Nona. No matter what I tell you now, no matter how much you _despise_ him, he will find a way to corrupt you. We _can_ not, _will_ not hand you over to the Random without a fight.]_

_[This… this is just too much… how can you expect me to take this on?]_ Nona turned away from the fate, suddenly uncomfortable with him being so close.

Lachesis understood the gesture and stepped away, straightening his back. _[I'm not expecting you to take this on instantly; I couldn't possibly do that to you. Think of this more of a proposal, then: consider it, that's all we're asking. We cannot promise you riches or recognition or even satisfaction. Only an opportunity to do what is right by nature, by the purpose, by existence itself. Now, I must leave you to think, to accept, to decline, whatever you choose._

_[I need to find my colleague]._

_[Clotho? What's happened to him?]_

Lachesis shrugged his small shoulders, _[your guess is as good as mine. Last night I made the mistake of telling him that you were in danger from the Random, I haven't seen him since. I don't think Atropos would seriously _harm_ him, he's obligated not to. But he may get a little over-zealous. I cannot linger. I'll come to you as soon as I find him. Until then: keep your mind open and your heart closed. Be wary,]_ he added before he turned away.

Nona turned to the funeral, then back to the little man walking away from her. _[Lachesis, wait! I'll come with you.]_ When he turned, she added: _[if he went to watch over me, he can't be far, can he? And if he's with Atropos, I can't let you take him on your own.]_

For a moment, she thought he would decline, but when he looked over her shoulder to the memorial service, she knew he was seriously considering taking her along. After a beat, he tried to dissuade her, _[it could be dangerous: he may not even be on this level of perception, he could be further up. If that's the case, I can't take you anyway.]_

_[Then take me as far as you can.]_

**3**

Lachesis furrowed his brow and Nona could tell he wanted to say no. _[Alright,]_ he sighed instead. _[But first, I need to see if you're ready.] _He pointed to an oak tree at the opposite end of the necropolis, _[shoot it.]_

_[Shoot it? with what?]_

He stepped forward, took her right hand and molded it into a cup. He took a short breath and lightly blew into her palm like a hiker trying to start a fire from scratch. First she heard a crackle, like burning sap, and then she saw the sparks, cold, but still powerful. Electric violet, dancing around her hand. They seemed to gather in the center of her palm, fusing together to make a ball the colour of a lightening bolt. _[Throw it,]_ he stated shortly. _[Like…]_

His words dissolved into an image: a man playing cricket, a bowler, running a few steps, pinwheeling his arm and releasing the little red ball

_[… that.]_

At first, Nona looked, perplexed, from the crackling ball in her palm to Lachesis. The little doctor nodded his encouragement and she concentrated her energy into a throw. More like a baseball pitch that a cricket bowl, but the idea was the same. The two watched as the violet ball hit the trunk and diffused, and then they turned to each other.

_[Beginner's luck,] _Lachesis teased. _[Now, to _replenish_ that energy, all you need to do is pick someone – anyone, and absorb some of theirs.]_

_[What? Like a _vampire_? You can't be serious.]_

He shrugged again, _[then take some of mine first, if you're not comfortable taking any of theirs. or take Lois', she'll understand.]_

_[Okay, how?]_

_[It varies, try anything.]_

She shook her head, _[why do you have to be so damn vague?]_ before stepping back with her left foot and pointing her right toes at Lachesis. She extended her right arm, palm up and curled her fingers as though beckoning him. Slowly, she breathed in his aura like it was a perfume.

_[Don't take too much,]_ he warned, _[you don't want to overdose on this stuff.]_

Nona relaxed, returned to a casual stance and instantly felt refreshed.

_[Come,]_ Lachesis held his hands out to her. _[You're ready.]_


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

_**AN: I've gone and leant the book to my aunty, so I won't be able to add anymore quotes yet. If you happen to think of an appropriate quote for this chapter, or any one that follows, chuck it in a review and I'll add it.**_

_**And you'll have to forgive me if my description of Atropos' lair is inaccurate – I'm working off memory.**_

_**Oh, yeah, I've added a bit to the last chapter, so you might wanna go and check the ending of that one.**_

**1**

The moment she took the doctor's hands, what felt like a gale-force wind swept around them. At first, Nona tried to pull away, but her companion's eyes told her not to be afraid. She relaxed and Lachesis smiled at her.

_[No harm will come to you. Just stay with me and you'll be alright.]_

Her peripheral vision seemed to go haywire: colours and shapes whirred past her with relentless speed and, though she had never been prone to motion-sickness, she begun to feel ill. Lachesis saw the colour drain from her face and lent her some more of his energy to keep her strong. It worked well enough, but when the movement suddenly ceased, Nona found herself running to a nearby bush and vomiting at its roots.

_[Ugh,]_ she uttered in disgust, and looked up at Lachesis, who was trying in vain to stifle a fit of giggles. _[Don't you _dare_ do that to me again!]_ She scolded him playfully.

_[Apologies,]_ her companion said when he could finally control himself, _[I'm used to it,]_ he added. His tone implied _what more can I say?_

Nona stood and looked around, _[we're in the park__1__…]_ she declared thoughtfully.

_[The obvious has never been better stated. Come,]_ Lachesis held out his hand. _[The home of the Third is not far.]_

_[You think Clotho's _there_? Of all places?]_

_[Mm,] _the doctor nodded. _[It's just a hunch, but as you may no doubt've guessed by now: hunches in my line of work are something to pay attention to. Do not be frightened of Atropos, Nona. He wants you alive as much as we do.]_

_[I'm not frightened for myself…]_

_[You're frightened for Clotho,] _Lachesis finished. When she nodded in agreement, he added, _[as am I. then let us hurry.]_

**2**

Lachesis led her to an ancient and gnarled tree just off-center of the park. Silently, he lifted a shrub next to the tree and uncovered a nasty-looking hole in the ground. The smell drifting from it was rank, not unlike the horse-shit fertilizer used by organic vegetable growers.

_[You expect me to go _in_ there?]_

_[You insisted on coming.]_

_[You're impossible.]_

_[I know. That's what makes me so loveable. Coming?]_

_[Fine,]_ Nona gave an exasperated sigh and climbed into the hole. She didn't just have to crawl through it, she had to _worm_ her way through it. She felt like Tim Robbins in _the_ _Shawshank Redemption__2__._ Eventually, the tunnel widened and she found she could stand.

_[Argh! Jeez!]_

_[Watch your head,] _Lachesis remarked dryly as she cracked her head on a root.

Well, _almost_ stand_._

**3**

The atmosphere was as though someone was filming another crappy _Star Wars__3_ movie: crashing, banging and fizzing onomatopoeia echoed through the tunnel following flares of gold and royal blue. Instantly, Lachesis began to run, his aura flaring in desperation, and Nona tried to follow like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. The two familiar voices joined in the ruckus, mostly struggled grunts of effort, surprise or pain with the occasional taunt thrown in for good measure: Clotho and Atropos were fighting like tomcats trapped in a sack.

Shortly, Nona and Lachesis entered the Aladdin's Cave of Stolen Relics that Atropos has collected over the years. First they saw Clotho with his back against a pile of ancient souvenirs, panting with exhaustion, his aura flickering like a bushfire. He was too busy concentrating on his nemesis to notice his back-up had arrived.

Atropos sat atop another pile of junk on the opposite side of the unbelievably colossal room,

_[Come on, you old fuckwit! Is that it? You gone soft on me ya fuckin fossil?]_

shouting insults left and right, trying to coax Clotho out of hiding. His aura blazed like a blue star, but the yet-unseen Nona and Lachesis noticed he was also near exhaustion, _how long exactly have these two been at it?_ Lachesis turned to his companion and cupped his hands to pursed lips: _be ready._ He jabbed himself in the chest with a finger and gestured to Atropos before pointing to her and motioning towards Clotho: _I distract, you run, got it?_

Nona nodded and curled her fore-finger and thumb in the age-old _okay_ sign. Lachesis tilted his head and raised his eye brow for a moment before dismissing his own confusion and running towards Atropos. _[Over here, Arsehole!]_

Nona, meanwhile, ran soundlessly to Clotho's side, careful not to startle him lest he mistake her for Atropos. He sensed her peaceful presence, however, and turned slowly. He took her hands in grateful silence and smiled weakly. Nona placed her left hand against the shallow wound that ran down the side of his face in concern.

In reply, Clotho touched the left side of her forehead and Nona understood instantly: _that's where his blood had come from._

_[Hey you little fuck-faced cuntlicker! Where the fuck did you come from?]_

Clotho and Nona peeked around the edge of the relic-pile in time to see Lachesis deflect a blue missile and cast one of his own back to his attacker. Atropos dodged the gold effortlessly and was almost struck by the deflected shot, before darting back to his perch.

Nona cupped her hands to her lips and blew into them as Lachesis had shown her. Instead of throwing her psychic bullet, however, she raised it in her right hand and placed it in Clotho's. Their aura's instantly merged: violet flecked with gold, gold with violet and the two stepped hand-in-hand from their refuge.

_[Enough!]_ Nona and Clotho shrieked in unison, their conjoined force was enough to send a tremor through the cavern, toppling over a couple trinket-mountains as it dispersed.

Atropos was almost knocked off his post; he leaped to the ground and turned to face his challengers. _[You can't win this, Einstein!]_

_[Neither can you! Just give it up!]_ Clotho shouted back.

_[You know the deal, fuckwit! Hand the bitch over and it ends.]_

_[Never! The decision is hers!]_

_[What say you, Sweet-Cheeks? You heard the cocksucker: come to papa or we go on forever.]_

Without warning, Clotho broke free from Nona's grasp and charged, screaming a single, constant note of fury. Atropos accepted the dare and sprinted towards his attacker with equal ferocity. The two collided in a flare of blue and gold and both were knocked back at least three meters each way. Atropos managed to roll to the side but Clotho was not so fortunate: he struck a junk pile and was left in a daze. The Random rose in the air and prepared to bombard the Purpose with a volley of electric-blue arrows.

Nona and Lachesis both ran to Clotho, the former preparing another projectile in her hand as she ran. Lachesis crouched next to his colleague and Nona threw her bolt to the ground, creating a violet barrier around the three of them in time to deflect the antagonizing arrows.

_[Give up, yet?]_ Atropos sneered as he lowered himself to the ground. He had managed to hide the fatigue in his voice reasonably well, despite the sweat running down his face.

Nona stood to confront him and stepped out of the barrier. She looked down to the two on the ground and turned back to Atropos. _[If I go with you, will you let them go?]_

Lachesis: _[Nona!]_Clotho: _[You can't!]_

She ignored them.

_[I don't give a flying fuck about those two dipshits – I only want you, Sweet-Cheeks. Whaddoyou say?]_

Clotho: _[Nona!][Compromise!]_

She looked back to Clotho again. Golden blood had begun to trickle from the corner of his mouth; the wound on the side of his face had been re-opened and had begun to weep. She couldn't defy him, not after how fiercely he had fought for her. But…

_[I know you can't lie so answer me this: if Lachesis and I hadn't come along, would you have killed him?]_

Atropos turned his attention to Clotho. _['If I must.' Wasn't that what you said last night, old buddy?]_ When he received only silence, he turned back to Nona and continued. _[We're true to our word, Sweet-Cheeks. Then yes: I would've held him to his.]_

She cast an apologetic glance at Clotho and Lachesis. _[I'll come to you tomorrow and I'll be open to suggestions. Meanwhile, you'll leave them be. Agreed?]_

Atropos looked back at the pathetic pair – was that a flicker of pity? – and nodded. _[Fine, run home with those pussies. I'll find you on my own terms, no more compromises, though, not from me. Get the fuck out of here then: you've overstayed your welcome.]_

_[Do I have your word?]_

Atropos hesitated, _[Yes you have my fucking word piss off.]_ he agreed reluctantly.

Saying nothing, Nona turned on her heel and walked back to Clotho and Lachesis. The former had risen onto his right elbow while the latter supported his left side. Nona knelt and wiped the blood off Clotho's chin and helped him to stand. None noticed as Atropos left them in a fit of over-dramatised gagging.

Lachesis took one of Clotho's hands and held out the other for Nona. She grasped it, but instead of taking Clotho's hand, she placed a steadying arm around his shoulders. He smiled gratefully and put his free hand on her waist.

_[Where's our destination?]_ Lachesis asked.

_[My place. I'm not letting you two stay alone tonight.]_

_[Harris Ave it is. Hold tight.]_

**4**

Nona didn't chunder this time as they landed on her doorstep; instead she let Clotho lean against her as she fished in her pocket for her keyring with her free hand. She found the right key, separated it from the rest with her teeth and handed it to Lachesis to open the door.

Once inside, she carried Clotho to the spare room and lowered him onto one of the single beds. After tucking him in like a child, she left him with Lachesis to prepare a bowl of hot water to clean his wound.

_[What's with this 'if I must' crap he was going on about?]_ She heard Lachesis ask when she returned. Lachesis stood next to the bed with his cheek propped up on his left hand; in his right he held Clotho's hand as though his friend was already slipping away. Nona decided to remain unseen.

_[Last night, he asked if I would die for her. That was my reply.]_

_[Oh, you old fool. Why would you say such a thing?]_

_[I'm dying anyway,]_ there was no trace of sadness in his voice, only acceptance._ [We both know that, I might as well serve the Purpose one last time.]_

Nona cleared her throat and they both turned to her, as though they had been caught out of a curfew. She strode forwards and Lachesis stepped aside for her as she placed the steaming bowl on the bedside table. She wrung out the cloth and sat on the edge of the bed to begin gently dabbing the wound.

_[Take the other bed if you want, Lachesis,]_ she said without looking up from her work. She looked out the window; the sun had just gone down, leaving a maroon glow around the horizon. _[You must be tired, too. we've all had a long day.]_ She dipped the cloth back in the water and squeezed out the excess water again to clean the now-dried blood from Clotho's chin.

When she was done, Nona leaned forward and kissed Clotho's cheek before rising and tucking in Lachesis like an over-bearing mother. She kissed his forehead and picked up the bowl of water as she left the room, leaving the door open a crack, and retiring herself.

1 _**AN: can someone please tell me what the main park in Derry's called?**_

2 _**Did SK already make this reference in insomnia? If he did, I'll take it out.**_

3 _**Yeah, I'm in the 0.01 of the world population that can't stand **_**Star Wars**_**, so what?**_


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

_**AN: this whole chapter was a mistake! It was only supposed to be a paragraph explaining what Nona's first impression of the docs was before Clotho begins his story session but I got carried away when I thought about putting Old Dor into my story somehow.**_

_**Oops.**_

**1**

It was still dark when Nona woke, though she couldn't say what broke into her sleep. It must've been the twin presence at her bedside.

"You're okay," she whispered groggily when Clotho's face came into focus.

_[For now,]_ the little doctor nodded.

She smiled at Lachesis who stood meekly at his companion's right shoulder, then looked to the neon clock at her bedside. Apparently it was 2:14am. _[Is it Christmas or something? Why are you guys up so early?]_

_[It's a perfect time to palaver,]_ Clotho answered with the air of a psychiatrist addressing his favourite nutcase. He gestured out the window, _[Come, the night is not too cold, the air yonder is perfect for the tales I have to tell.]_

Nona sat up reluctantly and swung her legs over the side of the bed. _[Tales?]_

_[Of our Becoming,]_ Lachesis answered. _[I have yet to hear them though I was probably told in a similar manner during my Short-Time life, but as a rule, our memories of that time are erased when we Become what we are. You have promised the Random you would palaver with him today. Not even I know what will become of you after such a meeting so this may be the only chance we get to have our say._

_[I have seen your lifeline cut, Nona. though by whom – Clotho or Atropos, or by what instrument – the scissors or the scalpel, I cannot say.]_

_[You've _seen_ my death? I must say, that's a little unsettling.]_

Lachesis shrugged, as if to say_ I wouldn't know._ _[If your cord is cut by Clotho, you will simply become like us and I will be left to teach you what I know. However, if you are Sent by the Random's hand, you will become his apprentice for the next fifty years or so, until it is his time to move on. Come,]_ he repeated for his anxious colleague. _[The night beckons.]_

**2**

When Nona was wrapped in an acrylic robe and slippers, the two fates led her wordlessly towards the front door. Clotho slowly opened the door onto the porch, it turned out he had been right: the atmosphere of the cool autumn night was only broken by the ghastly orange glow of the streetlamps.

Lachesis stepped outside as though in a dream: he looked around like a penniless child at Disneyland. He scanned the houses across the street and his gaze lingered on the house that once belonged to a woman named May Locher. _[That's where Ralph Roberts first saw us, I think we may have scared him a little – he thought we were Grays or something.]_ The amusement in his voice was unmistakable. _[What went through your head, Nona?]_

_[I thought you were just midgets or something at first. I thought you were old twins coz you were both bald but when you turned to face me, you looked ageless.] _She shrugged; she had seen them the day old Dorrance had finally died a few months ago. 'Old' was an understatement: he must've been a hundred and twenty if he was a day. She had been walking amongst the old folks playing chess next to the airport. Old Dor was leaning at his usual post against the border-fence. The doctors stuck out like a sore thumb: they couldn't've been locals but they certainly acted like it. The two little men seemed to be conversing with the senile old joker, though their lips weren't moving.

When Nona saw the pair of scissors that one of them held up, she was frightened for the old man. "Dor!" she yelled _they're dangerous!_ She wanted to add, but the three turned and when she saw the dwarfs' eyes she froze in her tracks.

---

[_Your eyes scared me a little_; _I thought _no one could possibly have eyes like that._ But it was you're auras that told me you weren't human – they were too…]_ it took a moment for her to find the correct word.

Clotho found the image in her mind, an ocean stretched the horizon – somewhere far out to sea where the waves dared not linger._ [We were too serene,]_ he finished for her.

She nodded, _[it was like you weren't troubled by human plights. You made me think of ants: it seemed that you were more concerned with getting the task at hand done and were oblivious to anything else in the world.]_

---

The foremost dwarf had lowered his shears when he turned and smiled at her – he actually _smiled_, as though the situation was as normal as the sunrise.

The second little man – for they certainly weren't dwarves – raised his arm to her and she heard a voice in her head, _[you need not be frightened, friend, this man's time of severing has come and he has accepted It. as must you.]_

She looked to Dorrance, " 'severing'?" to be honest; she didn't really know him that well. She had seen him only about a dozen times since she moved to Derry six months ago. He often walked passed her house where – had she known it – Ralph Roberts and his good friend Bill McGovern would sit on warm nights and talk of growing old and defying time; occasionally joined by their neighbour, the widow whom they both loved equally in their own separate ways, Lois Chasse. The wicker chairs were still there, where Lois and Nona would often sit like the late Bill-and-Ralph, with tea cradled in their hands instead of beer. Until a couple of days ago, she had enjoyed his eccentric talk of auras and hidden worlds.

_[It means they've come to take me to another place,]_ the ancient man replied, _[right, boys?]_

Nona unconsciously patted the crown of her head, where her lifeline rose like a reverse lightening bolt.

The man with the scissors nodded. He pointed at Dorrance with his scissors and quickly lowered them as if he had momentarily forgotten how menacing the gesture was. Nona saw how dark the aura had become: it looked polluted somehow. _[You don't have to stay, Miss, I don't think you'd be ready to see this sort of thing yet.]_

Nona was momentarily stunned, _'Miss?' _"Okay, goodbye, old Dor, I guess I'll see you on the other side,"

"Right, on the other side," he laughed grimly. "Tell Lo' I'll miss 'er," he added when she turned away.

**3**

_[wait, no, that wasn't the first time I saw you,]_ nona added quickly, shaking the memory from her mind. _[I saw you when I was little. When mum and dad died, you two were at the hospital. It looked like you were talking. I was amazed, but when you noticed me staring at you, you disappeared.]_

Lachesis nodded, _[you were too young then, you weren't ready. It was your father's time of severing, but with your mother, it was touch-and-go. The third took her.]_

_[and it wasn't the last before Old Dor,]_ nona continued. _[in one of our foster homes, every now and then, the father would try and molest me. One day, he fell down the stairs – you two were waiting for him at the bottom. The next thing I knew he was dead, the mother tried to say I pushed him. I think I was only about twelve, the bitch tried to convict me.]_

_[on the day you were born, you were marked to become one of us,]_ Lachesis confirmed. _[we've been watching over you since you came to maine.]_

_[One of the first things I noticed when I started seeing the auras was that humans and animals have far different priorities. People worry about anything and everything all at once: how much is my next paycheque going to be? Is my husband having an affair with that tart with the zero-g tits at his office? Is my arse getting too big for these jeans? People are vain, self-centered. It wouldn't surprise me if all that shit made us Short-Timers in the first place.]_

The fates both chuckled at this remark and Nona stopped before she could start the next sentence. _[What? I'm serious. No one dies of old age these days, its all exhaustion – they die of stress. Or lung cancer, or some Emo nut decides to go postal and shoot all the kids at his school before telling the world how much his life sucks and blowing his own brains out so no one can punish the little shit.]_

_[Stop, Nona, we get it,] _Lachesis grinned. _[Shut up, you're starting to sound like the Third.]_

Startled into silence, she covered her mouth like a rich old woman who had just sworn.

_[I think it's my turn,] _Clotho motioned for her to sit on one of the chairs and placed his hands on the rickety rail behind his back to pull himself up. He unconsciously smoothed the creases out of his smock, ran a hand over his face as though composing himself and placed both hands on his knees. He made Nona think of a college professor preparing to lecture a class in an end-of-week period. The little bald doctor sighed and put his hands together, making a gun-shape and pressed his forefingers against his lips.

**4**

_[Let me start with the most recent,]_ Clotho began, _[for it is the one which I can tell first-hand.]_


	6. Chapter Five: Clotho's Tales

**Chapter Five - Clotho's Tales**

_**DISCLAIMER: the song "Venus" is by the feelers, lyrics by James Reid**_

**1 – Lachesis, the London Peasant**

He motioned for Lachesis to sit next to Nona, _this tale concerns you, _the gesture seemed to imply.

_[Around four centuries ago, there existed a playhouse owned by four of the most accomplished playwrights of the time – one of whom was the _greatest_ of _all_ time.]_ He then looked to Nona, to see if she followed.

_[You speak of the Globe Theatre in London, don't you? A quarter of which was owned by William Shakespeare.]_

_[Indeed. Though this tale doesn't involve the Globe much – that is where it ends. I'm going to tell you of a lad,] _he cast a side-glance at his colleague, _[who was what would be called a peasant. His father was a violent man and his mother had died of a common ailment of the time: she had died in childbed. My colleague at the time called herself Valkyrie, after the Norse Fates who searched for heroes to fight for Valhalla, against Loki's forces at Ragnarok: the battle at the end of the world. She insisted that the two of us watch over this child, though we knew not how._

_[We managed. The boy would come to us in his times of need, there was a point when he even begged us to take his drunkard father away and adopt the lad ourselves. We couldn't of course, but Atropos got to him in the end._

_[By the time the boy had grown to manhood, Val had fallen in love with him. she was almost driven to madness when she foresaw his terrible death: the lad who we had fought so hard to protect would soon be burned alive. Thus we arrive at the theatre: it was during one of the plays that a prop cannon was set off by accident. The playhouse was set afire: it was here that Valkyrie's vision had taken place._

_[We argued, and I regret to say that it was the last time I spoke to her. She wanted to stay with him and protect him; she said that I should find someone else to sever in his place. I tried to tell her that we _deal_ fate, we can not_ alter_ it. She fled from me and I could not stop her – she had always been headstrong.]_ It was around this point in the story that Clotho began speaking directly to Lachesis, though none could say if either noticed.

_[She fought hard and if she had not, then you would've been the only casualty of the fire. She used her own force to prevent me from reaching you, because she knew that I would have to cut your lifeline if I did. It took all her strength and she was no longer shielded from the flames – she burned in your stead. You found her lifeline and cut it yourself out of pity with a prop sword. Valkyrie had intervened with fate and it cost her her life._

_[It took nearly an entire decade for me to convince you to take her place, during which time, the Balance of the Four Constants was upset greatly – Death was left to Atropos alone. You could imagine how bad _that_ would've been for humanity. Black Plague, anyone?]_ He added grimly.

Nona began to calculate in her head, _[The Globe burned down in 1613, during _Henry the Eighth_, I think. That's three hundred and… eighty… seven years ago. Minus ten years… that would make you three hundred and seventy-seven, Lachesis. Give or take.]_

When she looked to him, she saw that he remained silent; the little doctor was staring at the floor in contemplation. Nona draped her arm around his shoulder, hugged him to her and kissed the top of his head. _[Almost four hundred years overdue, but… better late than never, eh?]_ When he looked up at her, she smiled down at him.

_[There is a lot of love in you, Nona,]_ Clotho remarked. _[Which brings me to my next tale: I heard it in the same manner that Lachesis has just heard the tale of his Becoming.__1__ Mine involves a love that you are familiar with, Nona: the love of orphaned siblings…_

**2 – Clotho and Atropos: Greek Orphan's**

_[This one takes place in Greece, which explains why I prefer to use the names of the Moirae, the Greek fates. Though I cannot say how long ago, only that I was already ancient when Lachesis became one of us._

_[Valkyrie told Lachesis and I that I was sixteen when my brother was born. Our father had died a few months prior, felled by an illness. Our mother, like my colleague's, died in childbed and I was left to care for my baby brother. At first, I hated the babe, for was he not the cause of my mother's very death? However, as we grew, the two of us became inseparable. I watched over the lad with my very breath and guarded him with my very life._

_[On his sixteenth birthday, we were introduced to Valkyrie and my predecessor, who called herself,]_ here, Clotho decided to pause for dramatic effect,_ [Nona: the Roman equivalent of Clotho. They wanted him, they wanted to take my brother away and he was but a child. I refused to let them, I begged that they take me in his stead,]_ he opened his arms to add emphasis. _[And they did._

_[_However_, I did not comprehend the price of my actions. My brother was left bitter, forever in mourning. He lived a full life, dying over half a century later, only to become the one you know as Atropos.]_

_[He's your _brother?_]_ Nona gasped. _[But how could he hurt you so after all you did to protect him?]_

Clotho shrugged, as if to say, _isn't it obvious? [He doesn't know. How could he, with no one to tell him? There is more: My wife, the very woman I had loved my entire life, the mother of my two children, took her own life when the news of my death reached her. The memory I chose to keep was of her: the night that we had first lain together. She was so beautiful. She was beginning to fall asleep in my arms when she looked up at me and said "I'll love you until the end of time."]_

_[Oh, Clotho, I'm so sorry.]_

_[Don't be – the guilt is my burden alone.]_

_[Who was she? If you don't mind me asking.]_

_[I don't mind. she came from a small village on the coast of Greece. Her mother had just migrated from Egypt when the town was raided by Vikings. One of the invaders had his way with her and my widow was conceived: her mother named her Ma'at, after the Egyptian goddess of truth and justice._

_[Egypt gives me one last tale to tell:_

**3 – Valkyrie: hist'ry's famous beauty**

_[My final story will sound a little far-fetched since it would make my previous colleague around sixteen-hundred years of age when she stepped into the clearing__2__. Her story has in fact been told by many, her death revered as the saddest of tragedies, her beauty itself has caused peace, war, even treason. She was queen of a land of which she held no blood ties –]_

_[Cleopatra,] _Nona interrupted. _[Valkyrie was Cleopatra?]_

_[You know the tale,]_ Clotho confirmed._ [Then speak what you know.]_

_[Alright,] _Nona searched her mind, thinking back to the times in the school library where she would look up the ancient history section whenever she got bored of medical textbooks. _[Cleopatra the Seventh was the last Pharaoh of Egypt, though she was Greek, not Egyptian. She was revered as the single most beautiful woman of all time. She seduced Julius Caesar, preventing him from invading Alexandria. Caesar was later assassinated by one of his own men. Cleo then fell in love with Mark Antony, one of Caesar's commanders. When _he_ died in battle, she had one of her servants bring her an asp. She committed suicide by allowing the snake to bite her, I've seen the paintings.] _She looked to Clotho,_ [Is that everything?]_

Clotho nodded, _[Pretty much – all the important bits anyway._ He then turned to face Lachesis: _[Yes, your predecessor was once _The_ Queen Cleopatra of Egypt.]_

_[Hang on a moment,]_ Nona interrupted again and pointed to Clotho. _[I think I see a pattern here: _your_ predecessor was female, correct?] _When he nodded she pointed to Lachesis, _[as was yours. Presuming I take up your offer and become the next Clotho, then, theoretically, _my_ successor will be male, _his_ would be female, and so forth, am I right?]_

The doctors nodded in unison, it was time for Lachesis to break his silence. _[There is no real explanation for that phenomenon, perhaps it is to do with maintaining a symbolic balance, or perhaps it has more to do with love, like how Valkyrie loved me and chose me to become her. I think it's more one like one of those things that just _is_. It is neither random nor purpose, it… _is._]_ He shrugged, seemingly astonished at his inability to find the correct words.

_[there's also a compatability issue,]_ clotho added, _[val needed to find someone that would get along with me for about a thousand years, just as I need to find someone to pair with Lachesis after I'm gone.]_ he looked to his colleague, who avoided the gaze. Clotho jumped down from the hand rail and placed his hand on lachesis' knee, causing the latter to look up into his face. _[don't be like that,]_ he said softly._ [we understand death better than anyone. We know that everyone needs to face it eventually, even long-timers like us.]_

_[I know,]_ Lachesis agreed reluctantly. _[but…_ you're_ everything I know.]_

Clotho shook his head, _[not everything. You have your memory – the one thing still connected to your short-time life._

_--[Wow,] _Nona finally broke the unnatural night silence. _[London, Greece, Egypt, and now Maine: you guys have really been everywhere, haven't you?]_

_[We go where ka takes us, no – where it _needs_ us,] _Clotho answered._ [As civilizations spread, as populations grow more and more of us are needed. In Maine alone there are at least five sets of fates, under different pseudonyms and forms. Take the ones in the Lewiston area for example: the boy Paul is Atropos' counterpart while the girl-child Mary is Lachesis and the creature Antubis is just another version of me. You thought we three did the whole state, or just Derry?]_ He added with a smile.

Nona blushed and lowered her head.

_[We take care of the area between Dover-Foxcroft and Ellsworth. We were once centered in Haven until it was, erm, abandoned__3__ twelve years ago._

_[Any more questions?]_

_[No,]_ Nona shook her head. _[You're starting to look tired.]_

**5**

Clotho nodded solemnly and the three stood. He ushered Lachesis back inside and turned to see Nona walk to the edge of the porch and look up at the moon. She didn't notice him; otherwise she wouldn't've started to sing softly:

"_Come my little Venus/Can't you feel/It's in all of us? Like the light will cease soon/Give up yourself/And dive in to the moon. And I don't mind being with you knowing I'm/By myself/There's a river in all of us/That's dry/Coz you are in me."_

Clotho silently walked to her side and hesitated before speaking. _[That was beautiful. Where did you hear it?]_

_[I don't know,]_ she replied in that same quiet sing-song voice, still looking up. _[I just started to sing.]_

_[Is there any more?]_

_[I don't know,]_ she repeated. _[I've never heard it before.]_

_[Something else is on your mind,]_ Clotho stated. _[Don't be afraid to ask me.]_

Nona turned to him and sighed, shaking her head. _[It's a cliché. You've probably been asked dozens of times.]_

_[Try me.]_

_[What happens to us when we die? That balloon-string that you cut, is it some form of our consciousness or something? Where does it go?]_

_[Good guess. Look up,]_ he said simply and when she did, he continued. _[There are as many worlds as there are stars, perhaps even more. Within each world there are as many perceptions of that world, therefore the possibilities are infinite.]_

_[That doesn't answer anything. What about heaven? Or hell for that matter?]_

_[Didn't I just say the possibilities are infinite? It's quite possible there is a world strictly for punishment and one for reward, but your conscious goes where ka wills it. But sometimes, if ka's will is not yet done, the conscious will remain in this world where it can take on another form, Short-Time or otherwise.]_

_[You mean reincarnation.]_

_[If that is what you call it, yes, it sounds right: re-in-car-na-tion.]_

_[So that is what will happen to me? If I choose to become you or Atropos, I'll be reincarnated into a little bald chick with either a mean pair of scissors or a crusty old scalpel?]_

_[Pretty much,]_ Clotho tried in vain to stifle a laugh, which ended up as a short chuckle when he spoke. When he had calmed down, his face became emotionless. _[May I ask you something, Nona?]_

_[Sure, it's the least I could do. Don't know if I can answer it or not, though. I guess I'm a lot less clued in than you guys.]_

_[Just try, you might surprise yourself,]_ he smiled briefly and hesitated a moment before asking, _[what is love?]_

_[You're asking _me_ what love is? You've just spent twenty minutes describing it yourself: Valkyrie loved Lachesis and gave her life for him, you loved your brother and did the same.]_ She turned to face him and knelt to his level, placing a hand on his shoulder as she did so._ [Love is pain, Clotho, simple as that. It hurts when you're apart, and it hurts when you're together because you know it can't last forever. Love is pain, but it's also a euphoria.]_ On an unknown impulse, she pecked his cheek and added: _[G'night, Clotho,]_ before stepping inside and walking out of the little bald doctor's sight.

1 _**AN: A' la **_**The Tommyknockers**_** – I just finished it a couple of weeks ago.**_

2 _**AN: "The clearing at the end of the path" is a term used by Roland in the **_**Dark Towers**_**. It refers to the place you go when you die.**_

3 _**AN: More from **_**the Tommyknockers.**


	7. Chapter Six: Atropos' Argument

**Chapter Six – Atropos' Tale**

**1**

Nona walked around Derry until noon, anxious about her appointment with Atropos and secretly hoping he wouldn't find her. Eventually, she found herself sitting on a park bench, appearing to but not really, watch people rush about their daily lives. Some had taken the day off work to picnic with their kids; some were scurrying in and out of the café across the road like ants. _They're so oblivious,_ she couldn't help but think. _So much is going on around them and they have no idea._

Before she could stop it, a second, darker part of her conscious added, _and if they did, would they care?_

_Of course they would, they'd have to, wouldn't they?_

_Ignorance is bliss, _the other retorted. _They're so self-absorbed that they'd rather not know anything than _let_ themselves care. Wouldn't you?_ When Nona remained silent, her dark half1 continued, _you're jealous of them aren't you? They're allowed to carry on their lives as normal, none of this supernatural bullshit to keep them awake at night. No angels of death are fighting over_ their_ souls, is there?_

_[Ignorant, aren't they?]_

Nona turned, startled, to see Atropos standing at one end of the bench with his hands casually in the pockets of his jeans. _[That was you in my head, wasn't it?]_

_[Wasn't me,]_ he shrugged innocently. _[That was all you, Sweet-Cheeks. Everyone has their cynical side, but for me, it's all I have. Why don't you just embrace her, let her speak for you. Come, I'll get the conversation started.]_ The little man jumped up on the bench next to her. Nona tried not to flinch, but failed when his hand brushed against her arm. _[Don't be so nervous, sweetheart, I'll be gentle,]_ he gestured to the people across the road and began. _[The human race thinks it's so important, it's so dominant, so superior. Just look at that dog pissing on the telephone pole – in truth, humans are no better than dogs, they're worse, in fact. At least that dog has a place in the ecosystem: you see those hundreds of flecks in his aura? They're fleas: the mutt's a fuckin city.]_ Atropos turned and pointed to the family on the grass, _[that kid's got nits, the other one's got worms: they have their place. But what about the olds? Nothing – wait, the bird's got herpes, wonder if Daddy knows? He doesn't exist for any real Purpose, though, he just exists, wasting the earth's resources, a waste of fuckin air he is so why shouldn't I take him?]_

For a moment, Nona thought the question was rhetorical and said nothing.

_[Well?]_ Atropos insisted.

_[Because they need to take care of their kids,]_ was the only answer she could think of.

_[Oh, come on, Sweet-Cheeks, you of all people know _that's_ a crock of moral bullshit. Besides, even if the kids don't make it without their parents, that's _two_ less Shorty morons to waste energy on._

_Let me tell you a little secret, Sweet-Cheeks-]_

_[Stop calling me that.]_

_[No. the secret, Sweet-Cheeks, is that the Earth itself is actually an All-Timer. It's not the inanimate rock you morons think you can harvest like a crop until it's nothing but dirt ready for the next sowing season__2__. One day, either the Random or the Purpose will have to cut its lifeline because of what _your_ species does to it. Even one of your Holy _

_Writings states that you're here to protect it, but instead you _exploit_ it. And it's not just the planet either, but every creature, every plant. You continue to think that they're here to serve _you_, when in truth it's the other way round._

_[Humanity is evil, Nona. It should by all rights've been wiped out decades ago by nature itself. Look at 'em: all these fuckers give a shit about is lining their own pockets with fuckin gold. Deplete the rainforests? Why the fuck not! Suck the earth dry? Sure! Just keep on pumping that fuckin oil! Ozone? What ozone? Murder. Rape. Paedophilia. Necrophilia. Arson. Fraud. Theft. All these things – and more – are fuelled by One. Fucking. Word: G-R-eeeddd! Think about this for a second, sweetheart: do you really positively abso-fuckin-lutely think that this species has _any_ right to exist?]_

Nona stared at the angry little man, astonished. All she could think was _my god, he _is_ cynical._ _[No, they don't. they should never have existed in the first place,]_ the other spoke before she could say anything to the contrary.

_[It's good to hear you say that, Sweet-Cheeks. Come with me: it's time to have some fun.]_

**2**

_['fun'? surely you don't mean –?]_

Atropos reached into his pocket and revealed the rusted scalpel. From afar it had looked as though the entire tool was covered with rust, but up close she saw that it was only the handle: the blade that glinted in the noon light was by no means dull. The little man used it to point to the father on the grass. _[Don't worry, Sweet-Cheeks – no one can see you. They're not really here, it's just you and me: they won't even see you coming,]_ he winked.

_[You can't possibly expect me to…]_

_[What will happen?]_ The other interjected excitedly.

_[Aren't you just _itching _to find out?]_ Atropos grinned sadistically. _[Go on,]_ he added in a conspirator's whisper and held out the scalpel for her to take.

For a moment, Nona merely looked at it as though it were a

_(an asp)_

poisonous snake. It didn't take long for her dark half to take control and reach out timidly. She pinched the grip above Atropos' fingers, refusing to flinch from his touch this time, and he let go. She looked at the man on the grass, happily seducing his wife as the children called out for his attention, and turned back to Atropos timidly.

_[See that? He'd rather have a shot at getting laid by his diseased wife than pay any heed to his own kids. The bastard _deserves_ to die. Give him the wake-up call.]_ The little bald doctor whispered his encouragement.

Nona clutched the scalpel between her breasts and began walking towards the man on the grass. _My god, am I really doing this? Am I honestly going to take this man – this _father,_ this _husband_?_

_No, sweetheart,_ the Atropos-Nona piped up, _but you_ are_ letting _me. Nona moved like a wraith, she was unstoppable. With Atropos' scalpel in her possession, it seemed she was all powerful: a real angel of death approaching such deserving prey.

Atropos watched excitedly as Nona did as she was bidden. She walked like a queen, but when she raised the scalpel to the man's lifeline, she hesitated like a peasant and turned back to him. _[Like ripping off a plaster! Just. One. Quick. Swipe.]_ He slashed his left fist through the air to add emphasis to each word.

Nona inhaled once and swung the scalpel like it was a katana. And just like that, she had done it.

_[Take something from him – anything! He won't miss it. Well – not for long at any rate.]_

As the invisible black deathbag crawled over the man's body from his head down, Nona bent and unclasped the St Christopher medallion from around the man's neck.

Atropos beamed with pride as she strolled back to him and draped the necklace over his head. As soon as the sterling silver touched his skin, the fate's expression dropped. He looked almost sad.

_[What's wrong?] Am I concerned? [I have done as you asked,] _the Atropos-Nona added, _[have I done something to displease you?]_

**3**

Atropos remained silent and reached into his right pocket. He pulled out a large dark-red fruit, about the size of a grapefruit, which tapered to a kind of point at the tip. He held it out to her like a child offering a handful of candy.

_[What is it?]_ She asked timidly, trying not to reach out for it.

_[Don't be so afraid, it's just a pomegranate.]_

_Pomegranate? _The word conjured up an extremely early memory. Nona's mother had a print of her favourite painting hung over the fireplace back in Odda. The picture was of a pretty woman wearing a blue silken dress. She had her back to the artist and her head turned to him with a guilty look in her eyes. In a raised hand, she held a strange orange fruit with a bite taken from it. The fruit itself looked kind of like a peach crossed with a tomato. _That's Persephone,_ her mother had answered when Nona had enquired one day. _She was condemned to be the goddess of the underworld after eating six pomegranate seeds. Her mama was Demeter, the goddess of nature and she was very sad whenever her daughter had to return to Hades every six months. They say that's why the world goes barren during winter, and when Persephone is released in spring, her mama is happy again so she fills the world with beautiful flowers._

_[I'm not Persephone,]_ she said coldly to Atropos. _[You can't trick me into eating that.]_

_[And I'm not Hades,]_ he replied dryly. _[Think what you want, I'm not trying to trick you. Believe it or not, I'm doing you a favour. I never work for the Purpose, but for my brother, I'll make an exception. Call it karma: I owe him.]_ Unceremoniously, Atropos drew his blade and stabbed the pomegranate through the hard skin, sawing it in half.

_[You _know_ he's your brother?] _She knew he could only be talking about Clotho._ [Since when?]_

_[Since forever,]_ he replied dismissively, like an impatient child, as he pulled the fruit in half. The flesh inside was nothing like in the painting: rather than being gelatinous like a tomato, the seeds were separate, each incased in a blood-red capsule of flesh, all crammed together within a white pith that held it in the hard red skin. It seemed the Italian painter Rossetti knew nothing of Mediterranean food. _[Unlike them, I have no one to teach me anything when I Become, so I need to rely on my own memories. Wait – he thinks I don't know?]_ He added unenthusiastically as he shoved his hand amongst the seeds and scooped out a handful. _[Shows what he knows, doesn't it? here, taste it.] _He dropped the remains of the fruit, picked a seed from his palm and bit it, sucked the flesh off it and spat the seed to the ground. _[Tangy,]_ he remarked as he raised his palm to her.

Cautiously, Nona picked a seed and swallowed it as if it was medicine. _[And…?]_ She asked expectantly.

Atropos sighed, _[you have to _burst_ it. take another one.]_

Nona complied, and as soon as the juice dripped onto her tongue, it seemed she was plunged into an other-worldly orchard. She was running through the trees at night. One hand held up a corner of her linen skirt which was filled with exotic fruit, the other was clasped in the hand of a handsome young man with olive skin and shoulder-length black hair. Dogs barked in the background and her princely companion pointed ahead to where the trees slowly became bushes and shrubs.

Without warning, Nona began to choke and she was back in Bassey Park, her only companion was the evil little bald doctor and the only dog in sight was one of the mangy local mongrels. Atropos reached up and slapped her on the back, causing her to spit out the malevolent seed. _[That was…]_ she began when she had regained her breath

_[A memory,]_ he finished for her, _[from my sister-in-law, Ma'at. Fifteen hundred years ago, give or take. I didn't see it, because I wasn't there, but I know the gist of it: it was the orchard.]_

Nona nodded her confirmation. _[That man… was that… Clotho?]_

Atropos nodded. _[My big brother died so that I wouldn't have to, that much you know. He blames himself for Ma'at's death, where in truth, the fault was mine. I loved her – not like a mother to his father, like I should've - I loved her like he did. About a year after my brother's death, I asked her to marry me: I thought I could make her happy again. Instead I made it worse: she took her life because of _me_, not because of him._

_[You see, the truth is, _I_ don't want you, my brother _needs _you. I'm not evil like you think – _nothing _is, nothing _can_ be. Everything I've done in the past few days was for you two to open your eyes. I always knew who you were, Nona. I don't think he does yet but he must; only you can show him. And yes, I would've killed him if that's what it took.]_ The little man glanced behind her and said simply, _[It is time. Go to him.]_

**4**

_[Nona!]_ Lachesis hailed her.

She looked at Atropos who gave her a conspiratorial wink. _[No!] _She yelled at the Random, _[I will _never_ become you!]_

_['Atta Sweet-Cheeks,]_ Atropos turned on his heel and walked away.

She turned to Lachesis, who instantly took her by the hand. _[You must come,]_ he said desperately.

1 _**AN: go on – read it!**_

2 _**Hey, kids! Count the SK references!**_


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

**1**

Lachesis leads her through the short dirt tunnel

(_in a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit)_

by the hand. The smell was earthy, yet clean. The roots of the overhead oak tree created an arch ahead of them: the front door of the little bald doctor's abode. Her little companion looked back and she could see the anxiety in his eyes: the golden flickers on his black irises had ceased their joyful dance and just seemed to float in place. Nona smiled timidly _[Everything's going to be okay, Lachesis. I promise.]_ Stooping, Nona followed through the natural arch like a child following a faerie into another realm. The tunnel opened into a small living area encased within the clean dirt of deep sub-terrain, lighted by candles that covered every surface and torches that lined every wall. Two moss chairs welcomed her, placed neatly around a tree-stump table. The right wall opened into a little kitchen which housed a small wood-burner stove, a scavenged tea kettle and a once-discarded sink. Scanning to the left, Nona saw two more doorways, one draped with a pretty red curtain that looked as though it had once been a duvet-cover or sheet, the other, with a mink blanket printed with a tiger face.

Lachesis led her towards the tiger-print door and, still holding her right hand in his left, ushered her in with his right.

He was there. Sleeping almost peacefully on a little moss bed, covered with more scavenged blankets. Almost. Every now and then he inhaled a struggled breath, coughed and relaxed back into sleep. His aura had not only blackened considerably, but had all but _disappeared_, he was left with nothing but a sickly balloon-string rising from his chest. This settled Ralph Roberts' old argument: yes, the little bald doctors had lifelines, but where a human's soul resided in his brain, an animal's in his nose; a fate's resided in his heart. _How appropriate,_ Nona thought.

_[Oh, my old friend]_ Lachesis uttered in despair. He released Nona's hand and dropped to his knees at his friend's side.

As Nona watched, she saw, not two little bald doctors preparing to say goodbye, but Olaf and herself, accepting his demise. She knelt next to Lachesis, squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes.

_[I don't want him to die, but I don't want him to suffer like this, I'm so damn confused.]_ The little man timidly peered over at the bedside table then pulled his eyes back to his dying companion as though what he saw frightened him more than anything else in the world.

Nona walked to the table and picked up the surgical-steel scissors. They felt light in her hands, as though made to fit her fingers, rather than those of the little man on the bed. The next thought that went through her mind was completely contradictory: the shears were also heavy with burden.

She turned to Lachesis and bent to kiss the top of his head. Before she could, his little face looked up at her and smiled thankfully through its sorrow. She gently placed her left hand on his cheek and tenderly kissed the corner of his mouth instead. _[Are you ready?]_

_[I'll never be ready,]_ his voice was choked with oncoming tears.

Nona stroked his cheek with her thumb and tried to smile, though in the eyes of Lachesis, it was more like a wince of pain. He said nothing as she rose to kneel on the opposite side of the bed. She placed her left hand on the chest of the little sleeping man, gently waking him.

The eyes that opened were completely black: no fireflies flitted across the void anymore, but they managed to shimmer as he smiled weakly at the two faces looking down at him. first at his colleague who squeezed his hand and smiled back, _[Everything's okay now,]_ and then at the woman who's bright face had shown him more in the last few days than he had seen in his fifteen-hundred years.

_[So you've decided?]_ He asked quietly.

Not trusting herself to speak, Nona raised the scissors into his field of vision and nodded.

_[Will you grant me the honor of one last favor, Nona? I think you already know what it is.]_

Nona smiled sweetly and nodded, she leaned forward and kissed his lips. "Pomegranates," she whispered suddenly when the kiss ended. "I remembered the pomegranates. Atropos showed me."

_[Ma'at,]_ there was no question in his voice and the fireflies flickered briefly in his eyes as he spoke the name. He said it again, _[Ma'at, I never thought I'd see you again. Now that I have, I think I'm finally ready.]_

_[Promise me it won't hurt you,]_

_[I promise.]_

_[Lachesis?]_ Nona stepped back for the fate and took Clotho's other hand.

Lachesis moved his face close to Clotho's and smiled sadly. _[I – I don't know how to – to thank you. For everything. You've done so much for me.]_

_[Everything I did for you, do the same for Nona, that's how you can thank me. You've done great so far, brother, Valkyrie would be proud to see what you've become.]_

_[Will you wait for me in the clearing?]_

_[If that is where I'm headed, I'll be grateful for the respite. Yes, I'll wait for both of you. Farewell my brother, my son, my old friend.]_ He squeezed his colleague's hand one last time and turned slightly to Nona. _[Take up the shears, Ma'at. Do not fear.]_

As though another entity entirely controlled her body, Nona knelt next to the bed and gingerly cradled her lover's lifeline between the fore- and middle-fingers of her left hand. Reluctantly, Nona raised her

_(his)_

shears and held the balloon-string between the menacing blades like a textile worker for, in a sense, that's precisely what she will become. She looked up to Lachesis, who kissed his friend's forehead as he had done so often to their previous Short-Time obligations,

_[I love you, brother,]_

before nodding halfheartedly.

It all came down to this moment, Nona was racked with nerves as she squeezed the fingers of her right hand together, severing the lifeline of he who called himself 'Clotho'.

**2**

Nona didn't watch the cord float through the earthen ceiling. Instead, she kept her eyes on Clotho's face. Oh, yes, she loved him. Of that there was no doubt. Lachesis knew, though this particular kind of love is foreign to them, that Clotho loved her back.

Nona let the scissors fall to the earthen floor with a muffled _clang _and leaned forward to kiss him again; she felt him relax and leaned back, looking into his unseeing eyes. She heard a sniff and looked up: Lachesis had finally begun to cry. Slowly, she moved around to him and embraced the little doctor, letting the tears stream down her face with relief.

It cannot be said how long the two stayed motionless, silently mourning their loss, only that they awoke on the floor next to Clotho's bed, cradling each other like a mother and her child.

Lachesis removed himself from Nona's embrace made to pull Clotho's blanket over his calm face. Gently stopping him, Nona kissed her beloved once more: his lips had grown cold, and she picked up the other corner of the sheet to complete the chore.

Five minutes later, the two were sitting at the entrance to the tunnel that led to the little dwelling. It was dawn. Birds chirped, the late cicadas distantly chirruped but it seemed there was no joy in their serenade. The strange pair cradled a mug of coffee each. Lachesis sat with his legs crossed, silently trying to get used to an emptier life, while Nona sat with her knees bent at a 90 degree angle in front of her.

Their untouched drinks had almost grown cold when Nona finally spoke: _[We need to bury him. We can't just leave him in there]_

_[How about over there?]_ Lachesis replied solemnly, pointing to a little tree to their left.

_[I think he'd like that.]_

Nona and Lachesis raised their heads in unison to see the unwelcome speaker: it was the Third.

Lachesis made to stand but Nona placed a hand on his arm to hold him back. She then looked deep into the face of their guest. His scarred face was puffed and red: even this hard little bastard had been crying.

Atropos patted his pockets silently, and then held his hands up, palm out to indicate he was unarmed, he had come in peace for a change. He looked at Lachesis, who nodded solemnly, accepting his offer of truce, the Random was after all, like it or not, his only remaining elder. He then strode towards Nona with an air of ceremony. She felt no sense of reluctance when Atropos took her left hand between his, bent to one knee and kissed her fingers – his honor was genuine.

Nona placed her right hand on the Random's smooth head and bid him rise. When he did so, he smiled. It was not the malicious grin he had offered her when she first saw him at the hospital. Far from it: it was a sincere smile that somehow made his scarred face beautiful. Nona then returned the bow silently, her hand still clasped between his. The Random removed the St Christopher from around his neck and transferred it to hers. She lifted her head and kissed his cheek, marking the end of the silent induction.

Nona looked to Lachesis and held her right hand for him to take and let the two remaining fates lead her back into the dwelling. _It's like watching a cat and dog walking side-by-side,_ she reflected as she walked behind Lachesis and Atropos strolling abreast ahead of her. _These two are natural enemies – under any other circumstance they would be at each other's throats by now._

It all seemed like instinct as the three stepped into Clotho's room: even Nona knew what was required of her. As the two little doctors pulled down the tiger blanket and lay it out on the floor, Nona uncovered Clotho's body and washed his face and hands – other than that, they had jointly, silently, decided he would be buried as is. Her task done, she laid him on top of the blanket and kissed him one last time before Atropos and Lachesis folded their sides over him. Nona rose to her feet, picked the scissors from the floor and tucked it into the topmost fold of the blanket.

Still in silence, Nona picked up the little bundle and lead the succession back to the outside world, Lachesis behind her with his head bowed and Atropos bringing up the rear with his head raised to the heavens. As soon as the sun hit her face, Nona stepped to the right and sat with her legs crossed and Clotho cradled on her lap.

Atropos moved into step with Lachesis and the two walked toward the little feijoa1 tree. The first stopped about five feet in front of it, while the second carried on until he was about half a foot from it. Each raised his arms at 90 degree angles, and faced each other diagonally, creating the illusion of a rectangle on the grass. For a while, Nona watched them but they remained motionless, as though they were lost in some sort of joint-meditation.

Eventually she looked down at the bundle in her arms, her beloved. When she looked up it was sundown, although she would swear if she could that she had only looked down for an instant. After all if it really had been twelve hours, would her arms not have fallen asleep with the deadweight?

The instant the sun dipped behind the horizon, Atropos and Lachesis dropped their arms and the earth between them began to crumble away. Neither moved as the void inched toward his toes.

Taking an unknown cue, Nona rose to her feet, carefully supporting her burden. Her legs held as though she had indeed been sitting for no more than five minutes. Slowly, carefully, she walked towards the five-foot deep hole, gingerly placed Clotho on the ground next to the pit and jumped in. Lachesis picked up the head-end while Atropos took the feet and the two lowered their companion into the woman's arms. She lowered the bundle to the ground and smoothed the blanket over his face before removing the scissors, accepting their burden: _she_ was Clotho now. When she had placed the shears on the grass, the earthen walls of the grave trembled. Acting quickly, Lachesis and Atropos grabbed a hand each and pulled her up before the grave caved in.

The deed was done, and Atropos knew his services were no longer needed. He turned to Lachesis, embraced him, and then made a last bow to Nona before walking away.

_[Atropos, wait,]_ Nona called as he turned.

Slowly, he faced her questioningly.

_[What did we do, Clotho and I? if we're being punished for something – you're the only one that can tell me why.]_

The little man shrugged, _[I wouldn't know. I'm sorry, Ma'at,]_ before walking away for good.

**3**

_[He was my brother, father, teacher, mentor, but most of all, he was my friend. You gave him love that was otherwise forbidden. Pomegranates,] _he added as an afterthought._ [What was all that about pomegranates?]_

_[His memory: we were running through an orchard, being chased by the proprietor. We had just stolen some pomegranates and persimmons. We hid amongst the trees and eventually the orchardist gave up the chase. We were exhausted, exhilarated, frightened – and in love. It was fifteen hundred years ago, but I remembered it when I was talking to Atropos. It was so clear: the starry night, the warm air, the taste of the fruit on his lips. It was the night I told him -]_

_[That you'd love him until the end of time.]_ Lachesis finished. _[You really are her, aren't you? You're Ma'at.]_

Nona knew there was no need to answer. Instead she replied, _[Perhaps it means that someday you'll see Valkyrie some day. Clotho told me about reincarnation the night you two stayed with me. "If ka's will is not yet done" I think were the words he used. Maybe 'ka's will' was for me to let him know that I forgive him, to take away his guilt before he died.]_

_[So… you're really going to take his place.]_

Nona nodded, _[It was his wish. You told me I needed to keep something right, you meant the Balance, didn't you? The Four Constants: Life. Death. Random. Purpose. You are Life, Atropos and I: Death. He is the Random, we: the Purpose.]_

Lachesis shifted nervously and looked down at his feet.

_[Is something wrong? Is there something I haven't covered?]_

_No, you got everything,] _he sighed. _[You remember what I said when you asked me about my becoming?]_

Nona thought for a moment and quickly glanced at her new colleague. _[No… I can't just forget him, Lachesis! I…]_

_[You have to,]_ he interjected. _[How do you think you could possibly exist for another millennium without him? Let me tell you something else, Nona: I've known for two years that he was going to die; I've had plenty of time to mourn. When I cried last night it wasn't because he was dead, it was the look on your faces when you kissed him._

_[_However,_] _he sighed in his distress, _[I _am_ required to grant you a particular request: pick a memory, _any_ memory, and you may keep It. but please, I beg you: don't choose this one, you will only regret it.]_

Nona looked up to the blackening sky in thought. _[Just one?]_

_[Just one.]_

She pondered a moment longer then turned to Lachesis. _[I've decided. But promise me you'll tell me about this some day.]_

_[I promise. Continue…]_

_[The day my brother died. From the moment you called out my name, until the point where I noticed you two were gone.]_

Lachesis sucked air through his teeth and grimaced, _[Sounds risky. Alright, but here's the catch: you mustn't be allowed to remember your own name. At the beginning of the memory, you will hear my voice, you will know that I hail to you, yet you may not comprehend the word I speak. Do you still accept?]_

She nodded, _[The name is not what's important.]_

_[Very well,]_ he didn't need her to elaborate._ [Are you ready?]_

Nona glanced at the bare soil of Clotho's grave then looked to the feijoa tree. The flowers had wilted and begun to swell at the base, the fruit would be ready in another couple of months. She turned back to Lachesis, _[Wait, something's missing.]_

She stooped, picked up the scissors and walked over to the tree. With both hands covering the instrument, she pressed it against the red bark of the feijoa; blades pointed to the earth and held it in place. After some time, smoke begun to rise between her fingers, though the steel remained cold to the touch. After two blinks, Nona removed her hands and caught the shears by the blades as they fell.

Seared into the wood was the unmistakable impression of the Mechanism of Clotho.

**4**

Nona turned, exhausted with the psychic effort, and leaned against the tree trunk, letting her toes dig in to the loose dirt of the grave. For a moment, she remained stationary then looked up as Lachesis approached her. The sky was pitch-black – it seemed that the heavens themselves were in mourning. The fate crouched by her side, shyly pried the scissors from Nona's hand and turned it before his eyes as though he had never seen them. He shifted them to his left hand and placed his right on the human's shoulder. _[The choice is still yours, Nona, you can still say no.]_

_[You know my decision,]_ she smiled at him. _[Are you frightened?]_

_[A little,]_ he admitted.

_[Don't be,]_ she whispered her encouragement. _[You said yourself that I'd make a powerful Clotho.]_

_[Are you?]_

_[Afraid?]_ She smiled again. _[A little. But I trust you, Lachesis. My life – no my Death and Re-Birth are in your hands.]_

_[Thank you,]_ he raised the shears and held them over Nona's head for a moment, then timidly kissed her lightly on the lips. It was far from the lover's kiss that she had given Clotho; it seemed more like a kiss of apology.

_[Don't be sorry,]_ she kissed back.

He looked into her eyes as he closed the scissors about her lifeline and quickly dropped them as though they were a poisoned blade from _Hamlet (I think I might've seen that one…)_ he shook the distracting thought from his mind and gently lowered Nona/Ma'at's body to the ground.

**5**

As the Purpose worked at her body, Lachesis kept watch silently. As her features slowly transformed, the stars above his head began to wink back into existence one-by-one, though he took no notice of the phenomenon. It took all night and still he remained, seated next to her on the grass with his legs crossed and his hands clasped together as though in prayer, looking at nothing in particular, thinking nothing in particular. If he slept, he could not say for he felt as though in a dream.

Eventually, he looked up as the moon materialized from the void: the body before him was now that of a long-timer, a fate, the next Clotho. In the distance, the sky reddened and he looked back at his renewed colleague: it was time to wake her.

1 _**AN: I'm not even sure if feijoa's exist in the States, I only know that they're the yummiest fruit in the world and I had my first of the season today **__****_


	9. Epilogue: Valkyrie

**Epilogue – Valkyrie**

**1**

When her eyes opened, the girl rubbed her eyes with her fists as a child would. Indeed, in the eyes of the strange man before her, she was. When her vision was cleared from

_(death)_

sleep, she smiled at him shyly at him. His eyes were kind

_(hypnotic)_

as he helped her to standand she knew that he meant her no harm. She watched the fireflies dance in the darkness of his eyes for a moment and blushed, bowing her head.

Gently, he placed a hand under her chin and raised her head, _[its okay.]_

When she heard his voice, she suddenly remembered sitting in a

_(hospital)_

room with a

_(Short-Time)_

human man. His name emerged in her mind but she could not find a way to speak it. She opened her mouth to speak but he placed a finger over her lips. _[It's okay,]_ he repeated. _[Like this: you'll get the hang of it eventually.]_

She nodded, not quite understanding what he meant, but tried anyway. _[Lah… khh… Lach…eey…sss. Lach…es… sss… sss… Lach… esss… sss… isss…esis! Lachesis!]_ She flung her arms around his neck and nearly cried out in his ear, _[Lachesis! Lachesis!]_

_[Yes, yes, Lachesis, that's my name.]_ He laughed lightly, gently pried her hands from his neck and held them in his. _[Come inside, it's getting cold, I've got some clothes for you.]_

For the first time, she looked down at her toes and realized she was naked, the only exception being a sterling silver necklace draped around her neck. The medallion fell between her nipple-less breasts that rounded at the tips. Her gaze fixed on her strange asexual loins – no, they couldn't've been strange: they've always been like that… haven't they? The girl tilted her head, trying to examine the odd things at different angles. She looked back at her new

_(old)_

friend and nodded in agreement, only feeling the chill because he'd mentioned it. Letting him lead her by the hand, she followed through the tunnel into the

_(hobbit-hole)_

sub-terranian home. She was hit with a sudden sense of déjà vu as she walked through this strange place. She had no time to look at everything as her companion led her through into a room where she would never know what sorrow took place. Lachesis released her hand and left her to stand as he searched the drawers for suitable smock and trousers.

To her right, she spotted a mirror large enough to reflect from her waist-up. She leaned into it and was startled to find that she was bald. She ran a hand over her smooth head and blinked a couple of times as though expecting her hair to grow by her will alone. Next, she examined her dark eyes, and noticed that, upon closer inspection, they housed the same fireflies that resided in Lachesis' eyes. Slowly, she lifted her right breast, as though it would reveal some sort of switch to explain what had happened to her, when it revealed nothing, she lifted the left.

Without warning, a hand touched her shoulder; she gasped and spun around too fast to keep her balance.

_[Whoa! I got you!] _Lachesis caught her and helped her to regain her feet. _[Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Here,]_ he lifted a bundle of clothing and bid her take it.

The girl merely stared blankly at it and then looked at Lachesis expectantly.

_[You don't know how, do you?]_ He sighed. _[No, no, it's okay,]_ he added quickly when she bowed her head again, _[here.]_ he placed the trousers on the bed and opened the smock to let her thread her arms through the sleeves. _[that's it, now turn around,]_ he buttoned the shirt on her left side and smoothed the creases out of her torso before snatching up the green trousers and guiding her feet into them.

When he rose to his feet, she touched her bald head with her right hand and reached out to touch his with her left questioningly.

_[You're still beautiful,]_ he smiled in reply. _[Come, there's one last thing I need to give you.]_ Lachesis took a couple of steps towards the door and stopped, noticing that the girl hadn't followed. With another sigh, he held out his hand to her and she grasped it instantly. _[You don't need to worry: I won't leave you.]_

**2**

Once outside, Lachesis walked her over to Clotho's grave and picked up the scissors from where he had left them last night, trying not to look at the mark on the tree trunk that Nona had left behind. _This isn't Nona,_ he kept telling himself, _not anymore. And she will never replace Clotho._

_[Then who is she?]_

It took Lachesis a moment to realize that the voice had come from outside his head. The girl

_(Nona/not Nona)_

let out a little scream of fright and cowered behind him, her nervous fingers digging into his shoulder. Lachesis winced once an ignored it for the time being, stepping to the side to completely shield her. _[Leave us be, she's not ready yet.]_

Atropos ignored him and leant around to peek, Lachesis heard her

_(Ma'at/not Ma'at)_

whimper and tried to force her to back away.

_[She turned out pretty cute, too bad she fell for your late-mate, huh?]_

_[Leave us,]_ Lachesis repeated.

_[Why so defensive? I'm just being nosy. Oh, fine,]_ he sighed in mock resignation. _[I'll go. You can't protect her like this forever, you know. She'll have to stand on her own sooner or later; she can't go round snipping lifelines with _you_ holding her hand the whole time, can she? Did you hear that, Sweet-Cheeks? You've become the most feared force for all these Short-Time morons in this stupid town, well, _second_ only to me at any rate,]_ he turned back to Lachesis, drew his scalpel and held it to his throat. _[Wouldn't you agree?]_

All of a sudden, the erstwhile timid girl snatched the scissors from her friend and held the points to Atropos' throat. Instantly, the shears enveloped her in an electric violet aura and Lachesis gratefully felt the power radiating from her. It seemed to him that, for a split second, she was Nona again, that she had remembered what this particular little bald doctor had caused her to lose. The fire in her eyes told Atropos that it was in his best interests to shut up. Luckily for him, the message was clear and he withdrew his blade.

Lachesis grinned smugly, _[Thank you for showing her where you stand; I had begun to think that perhaps she wouldn't come round any time soon.]_

The girl appeared to relax, though she continued to hold Atropos hostage, her aura dimmed back to the solar-flare identical to Lachesis'. She glared at him for a moment longer, which seemed to make him uncomfortable enough to turn and leave.

_[Don't you dare think this is the end,]_ he said to Lachesis as he started to walk away. _[I'll see you 'round, Sweet-Cheeks.]_

_[Okay!] _Lachesis called after him. _[So nice of you to stop by! Bastard…]_ he added under his breath. Cautiously, he walked over to where the girl still stood with the scissors raised at an invisible jugular. He tapped her shoulder, expecting some sort of psychic shock. When he received none, he walked around to her front and placed his hands on her waist. Instantly, she crumpled against him, her paralysis gone, and began to sob.

_[He's not too pleasant, I know,]_ he said, knowing it would make her smile. _[Don't worry though; we don't have to deal with him often.]_

**3**

The scissors had made everything clear the moment she had touched them. She understood the concept of the Four Constants, her task as the bringer of Purposeful Death, Lachesis' as Purposeful Destiny and Atropos' as Random Death. Her speech had fully developed by the end of the day and she sat curled in one of the moss chairs with Lachesis drinking tea.

_[So, how do we know who we need to take? That's the only thing I don't understand,]_ she asked him.

_[That's because you don't need to: that's my job. But even if I wasn't around, you can tell just by looking at the auras.]_

_[Like the man in my memory: it was a kind of dirty-gray, like a storm cloud.]_

_[Mm. You're catching on. I'm beginning to fear you won't need me,]_ he smiled.

_[I'll always need you, Lachesis.]_

His smile widened, _[I think that's the same thing I said to Clotho.]_

_[Is there anyone who needs us now?]_

_[Soon,]_ Lachesis hesitated, _[very soon. on Harris Avenue. Don't worry,]_ he added when he saw the confused look on her face, _[I'll make sure you don't get lost. After being here a couple of centuries you get to know your way around.]_ He stood up and walked over to her, _[Come. She's waiting for us.]_

The girl took his offered hand and nervously looked around.

_[Do you have your scissors?]_

She patted the right pocket on her smock, feeling the steel shape under the cloth and nodded.

_[Are you ready?]_ Lachesis held out his other hand, _[I can talk you through it if you wish, I've seen it enough times]_

In answer, she took his hand and the two candle-light auras became a bonfire, sending the Fates towards one who had been an old friend to both of them.

**4**

Each tick of the deathwatch pounded her ears and each tock rattled her heart. In the days following Olaf Pedersen's funeral, the noise seemed to keep her awake at night. The last thing she wanted was to start seeing auras again but by now, she was thinking that if she saw the little bald doctors, they would be welcome – even the nasty one. Oh, how she missed Ralph. Sure, she and Paul had lived a happy marriage, but Ralph and she had shared something that seemed it could only be enjoyed by soul mates.

The old twice-over widow waved her hand in front of her eyes like an aged stoner but she saw nothing.

_(tick)_

She closed her eyes and began seeing the little faces again. So like children yet so ancient. From the moment she saw them, she knew that Clotho was the elder: Lachesis gave the impression that he looked up to his colleague, almost to the point of awe.

_(tock)_

_My, that's getting slow, I should wind it more often,_ she thought absently. It seemed she was praying to the little doctors by now, _it gets so empty in this big house all alone._ She looked over to her bedside table. She had just finished reading that series by the young man up in Bangor, a long tale called _the Dark Tower_. The final volume lay upon her dresser and she was surprised to find Ralph's name in there, as well as that poor Deepneau lad, even the Danville boy and the Crimson King.

_(tick)_

It's strange how almost all tales, real and make-believe, seemed interconnected and if you thought long and hard enough, you can find realities in any work of fiction. _It's a pity about the ending of that one, _she thought. _I really hope that Roland fellow finds his Tower in the end._

_[He will, Lois, he will. And Eddie will be there waiting for him, so will Jake, Susannah, little Patrick Danville, and Cuthbert, Alain. Even his beloved Susan Delgado.]_

Though she couldn't see where the little bald doctor was, she heard him quite clearly. She was sure she had heard his voice on the wind at the funeral, even though Nona had told her they weren't there. _[Lachesis, dear? Is that you?]_

_[Yes, Lois it's me. And I have someone I would like you to meet.]_

_[Is Clotho there with you?]_ She asked almost hopefully.

_[No,] _she heard him sigh. _[He has reached the clearing at the end of the path. Perhaps waiting for you with Ralph, Maybe even with Roland's ka-tet.]_

_[Oh, you poor lad, I'm so sorry to hear that. Has Nona been with you these past few days?]_

Though Lois didn't see, Lachesis cast a worried glance at his companion before answering, _[No, she died with Clotho. Do not be sad for her, it was her choice. She loved him, Lois, the way you loved Ralph Roberts. I had thought such things impossible for the likes of us; Nona Pedersen was kind enough to prove me wrong. Are you ready?]_

_[You haven't introduced me to your friend yet…]_

_[You will see her in a few moments, Lois Roberts.]_

_[Then I am ready.]_

_[Okay,]_ he sighed. [_Lie back, it does not hurt.]_

Lois did so willingly, smoothing out her blankets unconsciously. She didn't see Lachesis nod solemnly to his companion. The old widow felt a slight pressure on her chest and the warm kiss of Lachesis before hearing the snip as though she were at the hairdressers. Her eyes focused instantly and she saw the kind faces of two little bald doctors. She noticed the feminine structure of the second doctor who held the scissors and smiled at her. _[What's your name, sweetie?]_

_[You may call me what you wish, Lois.]_

_[You look like a Valkyrie: come to take me to fight for heaven.]_

Lachesis looked at his companion_, [What do you think, Valkyrie? I think the name suits you.]_

_[I feel like a Valkyrie. My friend has told me you fought hard for the Purpose once. You are certainly worthy of Valhalla, Lois Roberts.]_

_[Thank you, dear. Thank you, Lachesis. Valkyrie? Take care of the lad, will you?]_

_[I give you my word, Lois.]_

Content, Lois Roberts succumbed to exhaustion, her head lolled gently to the side as she released a final breath. Valkyrie looked to her colleague.

_[How long have we got, Lachesis?]_

_[You and I? oh, at least another millennium or so, Val.]_

_[I can live with that.]_


	10. ValkyrieIt Sequel

**Valkyrie-It sequel**

_AN: this one's a fluke, people. It began to form after I finished reading _It._ lets see how it turns out. Valkyrie-Nona-Ma'at and Nat Deepneau's friends are, so far the only characters that come from me. My aunty still has _Insomnia_, but I still have _It_ on hand for reference_

**Prologue**

**1: Natalie Deepneau**

"nat'leeee? Can I _pleeeessseee_ go out to play?" sean carpenter's little sister sophie was one of the worst to babysit. That isn't to say she was a bad kid, she was good when she was content, but it was times like this she could give the Sirens of Greece a run for their money. Natalie Deepneau closed her cellphone, got up from the couch, crouched next to the six-year-old and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"can't you hear the rain, soph? it's too cold to go outside," she answered in her softest voice. "You can watch a dvd – I rented Ice Age for you. Or you can play Hello Kitty. Do you want me to set up the PlayStation so you can play Hello Kitty?"

"Kiddy!" sophie squealed excitedly. "can I really?"

"sure, soph, hang on, I'll just turn it on for you okay?"

"'kay."

Natalie rose, plucked the videogame from the bookshelf and placed it in the console. She turned on the tv, switched it over to the av channel and started the game for sophie before handing her the controller and sitting back down on the couch. She watched the girl struggle for a bit with the controls until she had the hang of it and then plucked _Angel Fire East_ by Terry Brooks from her purse and began to read.

It wasn't long before the sickly-happy music of the videogame was joined by the creepy music-box sound of natalie's _Candyman_ ringtone. She glanced at the lcd on her cellphone, saw that it was sean, glanced at sophie happily absorbed in beating up evil blockmen with kitty's magic wand and went into the bathroom to take her boyfriend's call.

The call wasn't as important as she'd hoped, he only wanted to know if soph was getting frightened by the storm and if she was being a good girl. Natalie answerd the brief questions (no and yes respectively) but it was't until she hung up the phone that she noticed the eerie silence coming from the lounge. That happy music was still going… but there were no sound effects. No high-pitched jumping noise, no chime when you picked up an item… where was sophie?

As soon as she stepped into the hallway, Natalie stopped dead in her tracks: the front door was wide open.

**2: the Little Bald Doctors**

_[… and so then we – what's wrong?]_ Valkyrie stopped mid sentence as her companion's face froze. _[come on, tell me!]_

Lachesis placed a hand on his throat and fell forward. _[how could It…?] _he choked finally._ [I don't understand… they _killed_ It!]_

The little bald woman bent to his level and gently forced him to look up at her. His eyes themselves seemed to flicker with horror. _[what are you talking about? What's wrong?]_ she repeated. _[whose 'they'? what's 'It'?]_

_[pennywise,]_ Lachesis hissed the nonsense-word in disbelief. _[no…]_ he corrected himself, _[It's Spawn. It has to be… something survived… and now that its grown it's…_

_(Mordred's a-hongry)_

_… It needs to be fed]_

_[I still don't understand…]_

_[there's no time to explain fully. Picture the worst monster you could possibly imagine… right, now picture it on a really bad LSD trip. _That's_ what we're up against. It takes kids, only they can see It: adults lack the imagination required – they're oblivious to It and It's dealings with our short-time friends. In the fifties we helped a bunch of kids to pacify It, then in the eighties we helped them to kill it and it's eggs. but it seems one of it's offspring survived the onslaught. We need to contact the Third: It's a Random like him, he can tell us where it is.]_

_[the Carpenter place,]_ Valkyrie and Lachesis turned to their visitor, _[it's almost got her.]_

_[then you're on our side for this?] _Lachesis asked hesitantly.

_[shitno,]_ Atropos replied. _[I'm on _my_ side. It just so happens that the opposite of my side is that motherfucker and the opposite of that motherfucker is _you._]_

_[a truce, then,]_ Valkyrie offered her hand.

_[a truce,] _the Random took it and the two looked to Lachesis, each holding a hand to him.

_[a truce,]_ he nodded at last, accepting. _[it's good to have you with us for a change.]_

**3: Pennywise II**

"just a little closer, sweetheart," it muttered to itself as the little girl cautiously peered out of the door. "it's only rain, dear, don't be frightened, _it_ won't hurt you." The clown stood on the edge of the footpath oblivious to the chill, knowing only that starvation festered inside of it and the twenty-five year fast was about to end. It took a diagonal step to the left and was suddenly enveloped within an electric glow.

The child's face brightened instantly: a clown! Like the one at Poppy's birthday party! Maybe he can make me a balloon animal! She waved in excitement and he waved a blood-red gloved hand in reply. _Come over!_ He gestured.

The little girl glanced a cautious look inside and ran down the steps, careul not to slip on the wet concrete and stood infront of the clown in awe, rolling on the balls of her feet.

"why hello, sophie! Fancy meeting you out here."

Sophie stood still, "you know my name?"

"but of course! All the good clowns know the names of all the good children. Are you a good child, Sophie?"

"I must be," she answered smartly. "you know my name."

"very good reasoning!" the clown chuckled gaily and stopped suddenly. "but you disobeyed your sitter," he tutted. "and children who do bad things need to be punished." Like a panther he lunged for her, his kind face twisting hideously. Sophie tried to dodge and was knoched to the pavement. She sat up in a daze and the clown loomed over her

_[enough!]_ a trio of voices shattered the night air and the clown turned to face his challangers. The three little doctors stood in a v-formation with the Random in the front. _[you can stay hungry,]_ the foremost sneered when they had It's attention.

It's eyes flared white as he hissed defiantly at them. _[what would you know? You're nothing but pawns. I am - ]_

_[eternal blah blab blah_weknow_.]_ Atropos interjected. _[that's exactly the same speech your mummy used and look where she is now. In the Deadlights: back where she belongs. Right where you're headed if you try and fuck with us.]_

_[you think you could silence me? I could crush you three midgets in one go if I tried.]_

_[well…?]_ Lachesis shrugged suggestively.

_[you don't dare, do you?]_ Valkyrie added after It hesitated. _[Derry's ours. You may be higher up in the food chain but the authority is ours, not yours. And you know it. go bug Lewiston or something.]_

The clown pulled himself up to his full height. Valkyrie responded by blowing into her palm, Lachesis clicked his fingers and Atropos twisted his fists. The three began to flare violet, gold and blue violently.

_[don't fuck with us,]_ Atropos repeated menacingly.

The clown turned away, knowing It was momentarily defeated. _[one by one.]_ It threatened as It retreated. _[you cannot stop me. i. am. Eternal.]_

**4: Reunion**

Lachesis and Valkyrie rushed to the little girls side as soon as It was gone and attempted in vain to rouse her: it seemed she had slipped into unconciousness while her would-be killer was distracted. Valkyrie picked her up instead.

"sophie!"

The three turned back to the house to see a teemage girl run from the door towards them.

_[hello, Natalie,]_ Atropos spoke her name calmly and the girl stopped and stared in disbelief. _[Long time, no see.]_


End file.
